


Pity isn't something that should exist

by scipiocipher



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, M/M, Nightmares, Other, hilbert does not ever get a good sleep, low key practice for writing canon verse Eiffel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:26:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scipiocipher/pseuds/scipiocipher





	Pity isn't something that should exist

Eiffel wasn't sleeping well. Hilbert had given him some medicine for the pain (a bit reluctantly for some reason), but the burns on his torso still hurt like hell. He tried to focus on something else and distract himself, but it was always there, needling at his brain, always making him go back to thinking about it.  
At least it probably wouldn't kill him.  
Probably.  
He heard a small noise and turned over to see what it was. In the corner, on the only not-a-cot in the room, Hilbert slept fitfully. A soft whimper came from him again, and he curled on himself tightly.   
Eiffel's emotions had been mixed towards the good doctor since Kepler's "humiliation fest". On one hand, people were dead, and he didn't regret it, on the other, he clearly blamed himself for whatever happened to his sister, and this was his weird way of fixing it. And on the third hand, he did ask Eiffel about wether he wanted to be apart of this (wayyyy late, 25 points from Slytherin for that) and he hadn't given him a solid answer. And on the fourth hand, Kepler had humiliated him pretty badly.   
He knew how it hurt to be considered lower than an inanimate object.  
Another small noise came from Hilbert. Eiffel sat up and squinted at him. He couldn't really see his face with his hair loose, but for a second it looked like he was crying. Eiffel wondered what he was dreaming about.  
A few choked words came from him this time. He started shaking. Eiffel felt like an intruder, like he was seeing something he had no right to see, like he was seeing something no one had any right to see.   
He got up and stood, wondering what to do. He could;   
A) try to help or  
B) run.  
Another shaking sob from Hilbert made up his mind for him.   
He sat on the edge of the bed, and shook Hilbert's shoulder a little. "Hilbert?"   
Hilbert didn't react, too stuck in his nightmare to be woken. Eiffel sat still for a minute, looking at him worriedly. After a minute, he sighed and gently rubbed comforting circles into Hilbert's back. Hilbert calmed down a little, but not enough. He still shook, still sobbed and gasped on his sleep.  
Eiffel stared at Hilbert pityingly. He didn't have anything anymore, did he? He was tired and faded and lost without that damn virus that he had willingly let take over his life.  
Eiffel laid down next to him quietly, still trying soothe him into a decent sleep. He winched at the pull of his badly burned skin as he moved. Hilbert looked very tired without his glasses, he noted.   
The not quite earth level Gravity was a blessing in here, allowing them to lay down without having to strap down. Hilbert's tears half heartedly floated a centimeter or two above his cheeks before falling down, and his loose shirt bubbled up slightly.  
Eiffel sighed quietly. Conflicting emotions, all screaming for something, were so fucking tiring. Why did being human have to be this difficult?  
He decided to indulge his kinder thoughts and hugged Hilbert close. He made a small noise- something almost like a whimper, but not quite.   
For a second, it seemed he was in more peaceful waters. Then the storm broke in Hilbert's mind.  
He started thrashing and yelling, nothing Eiffel understood technically, but the meaning getting across fairly clearly. Eiffel tried to help, but wound up with an elbow in the face.   
Eiffel tried to talk to him to snap out of it, but Hilbert couldn't hear him. Then a word Eiffel understood passed from between his lips.   
Olga.   
His sister.  
Shit.  
Eiffel continued to wrestle with him, trying his best to keep him clear of his midsection. Hilbert just kept struggling. Eiffel stood, wondering if he could drag Hilbert to his quarters and strap him down, but then the yelling turned to screaming and the thrashing became even more frantic, tears flowing freely and half heartedly just barely not hitting the floor. Eiffel yelled at him a bit and struggled to get him back on his bed. The second he was lying down, the franticness started to decrease.  
Eiffel laid down next to him again, this time trapping his hands between the two of them. Hilbert still sobbed, but more quietly. Pity wasn't something Eiffel really felt- he didn't have people to pity- but Hilbert had it. He probably didn't want it, but he had it.  
He gently gave Hilbert a _completely ___platonic pity kiss on the temple. It totally and completely out of pity. No other reason. None.


End file.
